


winner x winner

by Miah_Kat



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Confessions, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Older!Killugon, Sparring, actually it's a stretch to include the sparring tag lol, they're like 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23161258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miah_Kat/pseuds/Miah_Kat
Summary: What are you doing?he wants to ask, but the words lodge themselves in his throat; he can feel his heartbeat in his fingertips.If you touch me like this, I’ll—“Killua looks good with his hair like this,” Gon murmurs absently, almost like he’s thinking aloud, trailing his hand higher still until he’s carding his fingers through the longer curls. His eyes dart over, lower, and his hand follows until he’s fingering one of the piercings in Killua’s ear. His touch is soft against the sensitive skin; it’s all Killua can do not to shiver.“And these, too,” Gon adds. Is it Killua’s imagination or was his tone kind of breathy? But that wouldn’t make sense—Gon doesn’t—He tries to respond, licks his lips in an attempt to despite not knowing what to say, but then Gon’s gaze snaps down to lock on his mouth.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 32
Kudos: 474





	winner x winner

**Author's Note:**

> this started out as a "sparring + "oh no he's hot" fic but Killua just wanted to internally lament about how Gon is attractive and couldn't possibly return his feelings; meanwhile, Gon's got no qualms about being pinned beneath Killua and admiring how pretty he is. there is zero actual sparring
> 
> these boys are hopeless

Killua’s not sure what he did to deserve this, but he’s regretting it now.

He _does_ know, however, exactly how he got here and how it could have been avoided. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, as they say. But honestly, he and Gon have sparred more times than he can count—how was he supposed to foresee _this?_

He probably should have taken the three year gap into account. Three years is more than enough time to— _mature_ —and Gon has done plenty of that. Killua nearly faceplanted onto the dock when he’d stepped foot off the ship onto Whale Island and found his best friend waiting for him, stockier than he remembers and with more defined muscles than is fair. Only his training kept him from embarrassing himself beyond turning cherry-red at the sight, something he could thankfully pass off as sunburn from the trip over.

It started innocent enough. He’s been on Whale Island for a few weeks now, using the time to catch up and relearn one another the way you do after maintaining a long-distance friendship, until finally Gon couldn’t stand to wait anymore, asking with palpable excitement, “Spar with me?”

Had he known that agreeing would land him _here_ , on his hands and knees in the sand as he caged a flushed, wide-eyed Gon beneath him, he might’ve considered using Godspeed to cross the ocean back to Alluka.

Because seeing Gon like this, chest heaving from exertion with sweat tracing tempting trails along the sharp lines of his collarbones, tawny eyes blown wide with adrenaline, all while _beneath Killua_ is so perfect, so _impossible_ , that it physically aches. He’s not even sure he realized before now that this was something he wants, but now that it’s presented so tantalizingly before him, he knows he can’t have it. Knows he can’t have _Gon_ , not in all the ways he wants.

Dark lashes flutter as Gon blinks at him, probably a little light-headed from Killua’s takedown, but then his gaze is sliding over Killua’s face, the deep browns and golds bright in the afternoon sun—mesmerizing—and then they trail lower, dragging over their compromising position as heavily as a touch. But Killua’s not touching him, not really, he’s been very careful to avoid it, in fact. Even so, they’re close enough that he can feel Gon’s body heat radiating against his sweat-soaked tank-top and basketball shorts. It burns in a way that the sun can’t hope to compare to.

There’s a tension between them that Killua’s been trying to ignore ever since he arrived on the island. Gon hasn’t exactly made it easy, either, but maybe he should have expected that. Gon has never had any sense of personal space, after all. The way he slings his arm over Killua’s shoulders and pulls him close or the lingering of his hand when he touches him, are typical of Gon. He can even understand why there might be _more_ touching than when they were younger; it’s been years, after all, they’ve missed each other. Killua can admit that much, so he can understand if Gon’s become more physical than Killua is used to.

What he can’t excuse is himself and his own motivation for initiating physical contact. He knows why he ghosts his fingertips across the swell of Gon’s bicep in passing, knows the reason he wants to keep his arm around Gon’s waist after he’s been pulled into a side-hug, _knows_ why he refuses the offer to share the bath the way they did the last time they visited Gon’s home together. He can’t, in good conscience, indulge in those things when he understands the feelings behind them are much, much different than Gon’s.

He can’t help that he’s been in love with this idiot for over five years (and counting) but he _can_ control how he acts about it. And he won’t take advantage of Gon’s friendly, innocent touches when Killua’s desire for them is wholly opposite of his best friend’s.

A hand on the back of his neck startles him out of his reverie. Gon’s tawny gaze is bright and focused, the way he gets when his determination is at an all-time high and his actions are running on more instinct than reason, and Killua can do nothing but hold his breath as Gon trails his palm up to cradle the back of his head. He’s regretting his choice to freshen his undercut before arriving; the close-cropped hair provides no protection against the heat of Gon’s hand. It amplifies his touch if anything, goosebumps prickling his arms despite the burn of the sun above him and Gon’s body below.

 _What are you doing?_ he wants to ask, but the words lodge themselves in his throat; he can feel his heartbeat in his fingertips. _If you touch me like this, I’ll—_

“Killua looks good with his hair like this,” Gon murmurs absently, almost like he’s thinking aloud, trailing his hand higher still until he’s carding his fingers through the longer curls. His eyes dart over, lower, and his hand follows until he’s fingering one of the piercings in Killua’s ear. His touch is soft against the sensitive skin; it’s all Killua can do not to shiver.

“And these, too,” Gon adds. Is it Killua’s imagination or was his tone kind of breathy? But that wouldn’t make sense—Gon doesn’t—

He tries to respond, licks his lips in an attempt to despite not knowing what to say, but then Gon’s gaze snaps down to lock on his mouth. Killua’s heart leaps into his throat.

 _Oh_ , he realizes, a rush of dizziness overtaking him and making his arms weak. Not even he could mistake that look on Gon’s face as anything other than what it is—pure, unfettered _want_. His eyes are dark with it, lips parted as he breathes in shallowly through his mouth, then slowly out his nose in a familiar calming rhythm. He’s holding himself back, Killua realizes with something akin to shock, restraining himself from simply taking what he craves.

He must know by now that Killua wants it too. That he wouldn’t mind, this time, if Gon gave in to his selfish desires.

But he doesn’t, only trails the back of his hand feather-soft across the line of Killua’s jaw and down the side of his neck until he drops it against the sand next to his head. It’s an action not unlike surrender. He lays still beneath Killua, all interest in their earlier spar having disappeared, chin tilted up and eyes roaming his features almost lazily; his silent message is as clear as if he’d shouted it— _I’m not going anywhere._ His lips curl into a smile after a moment, freckles backlit by the light flush on his cheeks.

“Killua is really pretty,” he whispers, tone reverent and— _shy_ , almost. It’s such a strange thing, to think of Gon as shy, but he can’t think of another way to describe it. Any resolve he’s managed to build up crumbles at the sight of him, his best friend, his first— _only_ —love, lying under him in the sand of his homeland with the same desire in his dark eyes that rages through Killua’s very essence.

He draws in a deep breath and meets Gon’s gaze head-on as he warns, “This is your chance to stop me.” He waits a heartbeat, then two, but Gon only smiles. Encouraged, Killua wastes no more time—he’s waited for so long already, never expecting this to become a reality, but _now_ —now he sews up the distance between them in an instant.

Gon’s lips are warm against his, a little rough from the salt of the sea and his propensity for biting them as he thinks, but they feel _perfect_ against Killua’s. He sighs into the kiss, dropping onto his forearms to get closer—Gon’s got his arms around his neck, hands back in Killua’s hair, pulling him flush against him with an eagerness that Killua can’t help but recognize. It surges inside of him too, a kind of desperation, and he can’t stop himself from grasping Gon’s face between his hands to deepen the kiss.

Gon makes a low noise in his throat at that, tilts his head a bit and changes the angle and— _oh_ , there’s the typical Gon Freecs impatience Killua’s been expecting. He opens his mouth with a gasp and Gon wastes no time taking advantage of the invitation.

It makes him dizzy, this new sensation of Gon’s tongue against his, enough that he worries he might collapse. But then, like he can sense it, Gon takes care of that too, grasping Killua’s shoulders and flipping their positions with ease. His back hits the ground, the gritty sand hot against his exposed shoulders, but its heat is nothing compared to the scorching of Gon’s palm against his, pinning his arms beside his head as he pours three years’ worth of longing into their kiss.

Neither of them really know what they’re doing but it doesn’t matter because it feels _amazing_ , it _is_ amazing because it’s Gon he’s sharing this with, the way he’s always wanted because he knows that Gon wants it just as much. He can’t help the moan that escapes him, gasping when Gon moves away from his mouth to press kisses along the edge of his jaw, teeth catching experimentally on the hoop in his ear before moving down the line of his neck.

“How could you think,” Gon pants in between kisses, “that I would _ever_ stop you?”

“I don’t know,” Killua replies, breathless, as he tips his chin up to grant more access, “You weren’t exactly taking initiative.”

Gon barks out an incredulous laugh, pulling back to stare down at him. His smile is so big it crinkles the corners of his eyes, though there’s an embarrassed edge to it. “Well yeah, I was scared!”

“ _Scared?_ ” Killua exclaims, brows raised so high he’s sure they’re hidden behind his fringe. “You?”

“Of course!” Gon drops a quick, chaste kiss to his lips before releasing his hands and sitting back on his haunches. Killua succeeds in not chasing after him, despite wanting to. “It’s been a long time. I didn’t want to screw this up by being greedy.”

“That’s never stopped you before,” Killua blurts out, not unkindly, just a matter of fact, then shuts his mouth with an audible click. Damn, he hadn’t meant to dredge _that_ up so soon into their reunion—and especially not after their first kiss! He’s an idiot.

But Gon doesn’t seem bothered. He simply nods and agrees easily, “Exactly. And look where that got us last time. I didn’t want to be impulsive, or selfish, and mess this—us—up again. I don’t know if I could handle another three years without you, Killua.” His smile turns wobbly as he adds softly, “I really missed you.”

His throat constricts at that, enough that it’s an effort to reply, “I missed you too.” He sits up to wind his arms around Gon’s waist, sighing contentedly at the solid weight of him on his lap, heavy and warm and _alive_. Gon wraps his arms around his neck, buries his nose in Killua’s hair, and they sit like that for a while, basking in each other’s presence with the calming crash of waves against the shore and seabirds in the sky.

Eventually, when his heart is no longer suffocating him by obstructing his windpipe, Killua takes a deep breath and lifts his face to nose at the space under Gon’s earlobe, lips brushing salty skin as he murmurs meaningfully, “We should make up for lost time.”

He feels the way Gon’s pulse jumps at that, hammering rabbit-fast under his skin, and he can’t help but grin. They have all the time in the world for apologies and heart-to-hearts later; right now, it’s enough knowing that Gon feels the same way he does, that he wants Killua in the same ways. He wants to enjoy the feeling of Gon in his arms, his hair between his fingers while his lips press tenderly against that fluttering pulse.

“But first…” He feels the shiver that runs through Gon at the sensation, his arms loosening just a little from the hold around Killua’s shoulders—and Killua seizes the chance, flipping Gon onto his back with a triumphant grin. “I win,” he brags playfully, taking pleasure in the surprised expression Gon wears before it morphs into something utterly soft, his eyes crinkling and golden in the setting sun as he reaches up in a mirror of earlier to cup Killua’s cheek in his hand.

“No,” he says, voice low and awed and so utterly love-ridden it seeps into Killua’s very being. “I’m definitely the winner today.”

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~i was subconsciously shuddering by the end of this thinking of all the sand that's undoubtedly covered them by now lmao they cute tho~~ thanks for reading! ❤️


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